Shattered Reality
by Trinity-Neo1818
Summary: Takes place at the end of season three. Max is reunited with Zan, but all isn’t as it seems. What is truly bothering the disturbed sixyearold, and what does it have to do with Antar and Kivar?
1. Chapter 1

**Shattered Reality**

**_By Trinity-Neo1818_**

**Rated:** PG-13

**Summary:** Takes place at the end of season three. Max is reunited with Zan, but all isn't as it seems. What is truly bothering the disturbed six-year-old, and what does it have to do with Antar and Kivar?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing

**Pairings:** Max/Liz, Michael/Maria, Kyle/Isabel, Sean/Ava

* * *

**Chapter 1 **

Mr Brownsworth sighed heavily as he heard the familiar crunch of the tires upon pulling up in the driveway. He gazed up at the large suburban house before him witheringly, secretly wishing that he could be anywhere else in the world but there. He remembered, in his younger years, how he would speed by the same house in his bomb car and pause to look at it, telling himself that someday, the place would be his. Ironically, he now would rather the life he owned to belong to somebody else.

He spied his reflection in the review mirror as he stepped out of the car and cringed. He was a stout, middle-aged man with sharp features and an air of eloquence about him, but lately he had been noticing a drastic change in his appearance. The usual glint in his dark eyes seemed to have died out, and his face was marked with stress and fatigue. Things had been so difficult at work, and this coupled with his family problems had resulted in this new change, or at least he believed.

For the past six years of his life, Mr Brownsworth had been struggling. Struggling to close a deal at work, struggling to deal with his seriously disturbed young son, and struggling to come to terms with the fact that he was no longer the dashing young collage student he had once been. Now, it seemed as though he was trapped in between his professional and home life, both of which were not running as smoothly as he would have liked.

Things hadn't been so good in his marriage as well recently, and although he didn't like to admit it, most of it was his fault. Often in the past year, he had actually considered just getting up in the dead of night, piling into the car and driving off, leaving his wife behind forever. He played with the idea in his head, considering all the different places where he could end up, and then immediately feeling guilty that he had ever considered such a possibility. He knew that Mrs Brownsworth was suffering as well, perhaps even more than he was.

He reached the front steps of the house, paused, then turned and made his way to the letterbox instead. It was rather childish, he thought, for him to be acting like this. It may have been a 'good day'. Although lately, they seemed to be having more bad days than good. Reaching down into the letterbox, he retrieved several bills and frowned, wishing he hadn't stopped to collect the mail in the first place.

It had been a cool, crisp winter day. The sun had shone diligently against the cold, although the weather remained bitter and frosty. Now, the sun was beginning to set beyond the house, the soft pink light casting shadows against the suburban rooftops. It was colder than it had been all day. Mr Brownsworth's hands had gone numb, and he could see a few purple blotches appearing against his white skin. Deciding that he had delayed entering the house long enough, he dug his hand into the pocket of his coat and pulled out his house key, making his way to the front door.

"Sarah!" He called out into the dimly lit hallway. Obviously, his wife hadn't finished turning on all the houselights yet. "Sarah, I'm home."

Mrs Brownsworth emerged from the kitchen, dressed in a floral apron and still wearing a pair of matching mitts. The room beyond smelt of Italian cooking. Mrs Brownsworth, a plump woman with a curtain of red hair and startlingly bright blue eyes, greeted her husband with a relieved smile. Like her husband, visible signs of tension and strain were showing on her aging face.

"Thank goodness you're home." Mrs Brownsworth hurried towards him and pecked him on the cheek. "It's been another bad day."

This hardly came as a surprise to Mr Brownsworth, but since he had been trying to convince himself that everything would be fine when he walked through the door, this piece of news made his already low mood sink significantly.

"Where is he?" He asked sharply. After six years of this, his tolerance for his son was slowly dwindling.

"Upstairs in his room. He hasn't moved all day." Mrs Brownsworth was close to tears. "Oh James, please don't be too harsh on him. He's just a boy."

Mr Brownsworth grunted, which seemed to satisfy his wife as an answer. She led him up the stairs and down the second floor corridor, towards a door that led to a room which looked over the backyard. She froze for a moment, as if partly afraid of opening the door, then knocked timidly before she pushed it open.

"Zan…" She said in the false, lighthearted voice she often used when she was addressing her son. "…Zan, your daddy just got home!"

She pushed the door open a little wider, so Mr Brownsworth could step into the room. It was a large bedroom, the second best in the house. The walls had been painted powder blue, and the large window at the other end of the room overlooked the enormous backyard. The wooden floor was mostly bare – most of the numerous toys and books had been stowed away, and the bed was pressed against the wall as if someone had wanted it as out of the way as possible. Again, this was not such a surprise to Mr Brownsworth. Zan was never the kind of boy to keep things messy. He liked having space.

The desk chair had been placed in the very center of the room, as far away from anything else as possible. Sitting there, and gripping onto the chair as if his life depended on it, was a small, six year old boy with a handsome face and a shock of unruly dark brown hair. The child was staring directly ahead of him at the far wall, a blank look in his icy blue eyes. It was as though he were in some kind of trance.

"Hey, Zan!" Mr Brownsworth exclaimed in a overly-cheery voice. "Have a good day, mate?"

The child didn't move, let alone speak. Mr Brownsworth nervously took a step towards him. He couldn't help noticing just how tense the boy looked. Forcing himself to smile, he continued to speak as though he and Zan were having an ordinary conversation.

"Work was good. You know that nice man Daddy works with? Mr Marx? He just got a new puppy for his daughter. He wanted to know if you wanted to come over to his place next weekend and see it!"

"That would be fun." Mrs Brownsworth called hopefully from the door. "Right, Zan?"

Still, the child was silent. It was as if no one else was in the room. As he came even closer, Mr Brownsworth noticed that the child was not just staring absently at the wall. His brows were furrowed in deep concentration.

"What are you staring at, Zan?" Mr Brownsworth knelt beside the chair, staring at the same spot Zan was as if expecting to get an answer. Golden light was seeping in through the window. It wouldn't be long before night set in. "That blank wall can't be terribly interesting, can it?"

It was hard for any man to admit that the thing they were most afraid of was their own child. But Zan was not like any boy Mr Brownsworth had known before. There was something unnatural about him…unnerving. Cautiously, he reached out and placed his hand on Zan's shoulder. He could instantly feel all the tension he carried in his tiny body.

Feeling the pressure on his shoulder, Zan turned his head so quickly that Mr Brownsworth barely had any time to react. He leapt back in surprise, getting to his feet and shifting away anxiously as he felt Zan's steady gaze lingering on him.

"Do not disturb me." He said with narrowed eyes.

Mr Brownsworth was a smart man, and he did not need to be told twice. He backed out of the room quickly, followed by his distressed wife, who closed the door gently behind them.

"He's getting worse." She whimpered once they were back in the kitchen again. "James, I'm really afraid for him. Maybe its time we tried to do something about it."

"Like what?" Mr Brownsworth replied angrily. "Sarah, we've tried everything we can think of. The boy's beyond hope. Perhaps it's time we put an end to all of this and just have him committed somewhere."

Mrs Brownsworth began to sob as she retrieved a plate of lasagna from the oven. "I can't let go of him. I love Zan like he was my own son."

"Don't take this as a sign that you've been a bad parent to him, darling." He said softly, feeling a jab of pity for her. At least he could escape to work whenever things became difficult at home. Mrs Brownsworth was stuck with Zan all the time. "It's not you, it's him. If you want to blame it on anybody, blame it on his real parents."

Mrs Brownsworth stopped sobbing immediately and looked up. "His real parents?"

"The ones who gave him away." He spat with contempt. "The ones who didn't want him. Maybe its something genetic."

Mrs Brownsworth grew tense. She knew that her husband always seemed to have something against Zan's 'real parents', whoever they might be. In Mr Brownsworth's opinion, anyone who gave away a child for _any_ reason when he and his wife had so desperately wanted one for so many years was a horrible person who he did not want to associate with. For this reason, she had spent the whole day wondering if she should confront him about what was on her mind.

"Honey, there's something I've been meaning to ask you." She sniffed.

Mr Brownsworth sighed wearily, bracing himself for the worst. By this stage, he was fed up with the whole problem, and would like nothing better than for it to disappear. He often wondered why, out of all the orphans in the world, they had ended up with Zan.

"M-Maybe we _should_ try to find Zan's real parents. They might be able to tell us why Zan acts the way he does, or more importantly, how he can do the things he can do."

"You think they'll believe us if we tell them?" Mr Brownsworth scoffed, clearly outraged that the woman would think to bring up such a preposterous idea. "Do you honestly think _anyone _would believe us if we told them our son can walk through walls?"

"Maybe they would if they were his parents!" She argued. "They might offer us some kind of explanation."

"There is no explanation, Sarah, other than admitting that our son is a freak of nature!" Mr Brownsworth harshly replied. "I have no desire to ever come into contact with Zan's parents. They're probably nutcases who scientists have been using for experimentation, which is why Zan is able to do such bizarre things. Not only that, but they gave away their son in the first place. They obviously don't want anything to do with him. Heck, we don't even know if they're still alive!"

"It's worth a try." Mrs Brownsworth snapped back. "I don't care what they're like, as long as they can help me to figure out what's wrong with my baby."

Mr Brownsworth fixed his wife with a long, hard stare. "I don't want you going near those people, Sarah. That is final."

Furious, Mrs Brownsworth slammed the plate of lasagna down on the kitchen counter. "You can serve yourself. I'm going to bed. Sleep on the couch tonight."

With that, she pulled of her mitts and apron, turned on her heel and stormed upstairs. Mr Brownsworth sat down on the kitchen school and put his head in his hands, wondering how his life could possibly get any worse.

* * *

Thanks for reading, please review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Shattered Reality**

**_By Trinity-Neo1818_**

**Rated:** PG-13

**Summary:** Takes place at the end of season three. Max is reunited with Zan, but all isn't as it seems. What is truly bothering the disturbed six-year-old, and what does it have to do with Antar and Kivar?

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing

**Pairings:** Max/Liz, Michael/Maria, Kyle/Isabel, Sean/Ava

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"Maxie!" A young girl piped shrilly as she scurried down the front steps of the large office building were she worked.

Max Evans sighed to himself and whirled around to face the girl hurrying to catch up with him.

"What?" He asked her sternly, although there was a small smile playing on his lips.

The girl bounded up to him happily, taking hold of his arm and beaming. She was still only a high school student, working as a secretary during her vacations to earn some extra cash and get work experience. She was also very pretty, and Max had caught more than one of his male co-workers eyeing her hungrily as they passed her.

"Hi, Max." She grinned at him, the evening sunlight catching the glow in her brown eyes. "Going home?"

"Well, it is five o'clock." Max gave her another small smile and tried to tug away from her, but she had a surprisingly strong grip for someone of such a fragile build.

"I was thinking that maybe you and I could go and get a coffee." She said hopefully. There were dimples in each of her cheeks when she smiled. When she saw the look on his face, she lowered her voice and gazed at him mock-seriously. "Just as co-workers, of course."

Max snorted, but managed to stop himself from laughing. She reminded him so much of Courtney, the Skin who seemed so besotted with Michael from the minute she arrived in Roswell. In fact, she even looked a lot like Courtney had.

"I can't, Natalie."

"Why not?" Natalie pouted, sticking out her already protruding lower lip.

"I have to get home." He answered, finally managing to pry himself away from her. "Maybe some other time."

"Aw, Max, you're no fun." She scowled, but by the look of her, she didn't really seem that upset. This wasn't the first time he had turned down an offer from her. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Yeah." Max called to her over his shoulder as he turned and headed towards the car park across the street.

Max had only lived in San Francisco for six months, and had been working in the office for five. During that time, he had spent more time at work with Natalie than with anyone else, since both of them seemed to wind up doing the same kind of tasks. They had spent enough time together for him to consider her a friend. At least he would if she didn't ask him to go out with her all the time, even though he had made it perfectly clear that he was happily married.

It had been six years since he, Liz, Michael, Maria, Isabel and Kyle had left Roswell. Six years of traveling around the states in an old van, hiding from their enemies while trying to help any people who were in need of it. It had been difficult to have to pick up and move each and every time they feared someone was suspicious of their identity…live somewhere else and search for a stable job again, so they would have enough money to leave again if they had to. He knew, that after six years of it, everyone was as tired of moving around as he was. Unfortunately, they didn't have any other choice.

Max knew that Liz had paid a price when she married him. She lost any chance of ever living a normal life, as had Kyle and Maria. In fact, he was surprised that the six of them were all still together after six years. All of them had been forced to make such terrible sacrifices in order to stay together. Kyle, Maria and Liz had to forfeit leading an ordinary life. Isabel lost her husband, probably forever. Max himself had to give up his only child so that the boy had a chance at a normal life.

But now, things seemed to be working out well. They each had jobs, were renting a decent sized apartment together, and managing to keep themselves from being discovered. Liz was even trying university. Although this was the third time she had to transfer, she was close to getting a degree. This was good, because it meant that at least someone in their group had qualifications.

"Hey, Evans!" A voice rung out across the car park, interrupting his musings. Max turned in time to see a well-built man of about his age hurrying towards him.

"Hi Lachlan." Max muttered irritably as the man clamped him on the back, making his knees buckle.

"Saw you talking to my sister across the street." He said cheerfully in a loud and booming voice. "You better be careful with her. She's got her eyes on you."

"I know." Max chuckled, shaking free of Lachlan's arm at the same time.

"I just thought I'd tell you that me and a bunch of the other guys from work are going out for a drink tonight." Lachlan followed him relentlessly to his car. "You should come."

"I can't." Max attempted to sound apologetic. "I don't drink."

"Maybe you can make an exception. It's Friday night! Live a little before you get too old." The man said jokingly. "Anyway, how much harm could one beer do you?"

_A lot, _Max thought to himself, dimly recalling the time he had taken one tiny sip of alcohol, and the strange effect it had had on him afterwards. Besides, he couldn't think of a better way to waste his youth than to sit around in a pub getting drunk with a group of co-workers. Out of all the people he shared a job with, Natalie's older brother was the one he disliked the most.

"I really don't think so." He said instead of telling Lachlan what he was actually thinking. "I have to go home and see my wife."

"Oh yeah, I keep forgetting you're married." Lachlan tried to smile, although he could not hide the curious expression on his face. Max knew that he was probably wondering what kind of woman would be so wonderful that he would want to marry her when he, Max, was only twenty four. Obviously, Max thought, Lachlan had never met Liz. "You've got to introduce me to her sometime."

"Sure." Max made an attempt at being friendly, secretly hoping that Lachlan and Liz would never have the chance to meet each other for as long as either of them lived. "I'll see you on Monday, Lachlan."

"See you, Max." Lachlan held up a hand in farewell as Max turned his back on him and climbed into his car, a wide grin spread across his face since he was thinking about Liz.

The smile was still on his face as he pulled the small, secondhand car into the car park beneath the apartment block in which they lived. He took the elevator up to the seventh floor, and had reached his door in no time.

Max expected the apartment to be empty when he returned. They all took turns using the single car they had earnt between them, and the other five people had to make do with public transport. Since Max's work building was closest to the apartment than anyone else, he was usually the first home regardless of whether he had the car or not. This was why he was so shocked to see Liz sitting on a counter in the small kitchen when he came in through the front door.

She shot him a worn smile that was unfamiliar to him, and he noticed a look of eager hopefulness in her brown eyes. Her long, layered dark hair was scraped out of her face and tied in a loose ponytail. She slid off the bench as he came towards her, taking off his jacket and tossing it aside, looking slightly concerned.

"Is everything alright?" He asked her worriedly. Liz was usually at work by now, and he knew she wouldn't miss her shift unless there was an emergency.

Liz didn't answer him directly. She had still been trying to figure out what to say to him when he walked through the door. Out of every conversation they had had together in the past, she somehow knew that this would be the worst. She hardly knew how to bring the subject up.

"You always look so good in that suit." She said, loosening the tie around his neck and moving closer to him at the same time. When he opened his mouth to speak, she leaned forward and kissed him softly. She was shorter than average, and he was considerably tall, which meant she had to stand on her toes a little whenever she kissed him, not that it mattered to her at all. When she broke away from him, he was grinning broadly.

"What are you doing home so early?" He asked, a quizzical expression gracing his features. She lifted a hand to push his lank brown hair out of his dark eyes. "Shouldn't you be at work by now?"

"I've had my shift changed, so I can work in the afternoons instead of at night. Don't worry," she said hurriedly before Max could even open his mouth. "I made sure that it doesn't interfere with my timetable at uni."

"That's great, Liz…I think." He said uncertainly, causing Liz to laugh. "Why did you change, though? I thought you liked the night shifts."

"I do." She smirked at him seductively. "But I'd rather spend the night with you."

Smirking now too, Max wrapped both arms around her waist, relieved to know that everything was alright. It was hard for him to explain the surging electrical current he felt coursing throughout his entire being whenever he kissed her. It was as if something inside of him was awoken. He became more…_alive_. He felt her arms fall around his neck, pulling him close sharply so that he stumbled forward clumsily, reaching out behind her to grip onto the counter for support. All the while, he was experiencing the strangest feeling. He felt as though Liz was keeping something from him…as though she wanted to tell him something. Eventually, she lowered her hands to his shoulders, gently pushing him away. He stepped back almost instantly. Seeing the determined look in her eyes only made him more curious.

"Max, we've been married for almost six years." She began firmly. "Those years have been really long and hard, but everything we've been through has been worth it because I have you."

"I know." Max said earnestly. "I feel the same way."

Liz could feel her heart melting. She wanted nothing better than to start kissing him again, but she knew that if she didn't talk to him about this now, she never would.

"Well, now it looks as though things are going to get a little easier. We might be able to stay here for a long time, right?"

Max kept silent, wondering where all of this would lead. Liz felt a little unnerved by the fact that he wasn't saying anything, but continued nevertheless.

"We've all got jobs, and we can all support each other. It looks as if things are really getting on track." She paused and took a deep breath. "I'm ready for the next stage of my life."

"What do you mean, Liz?" If things had been different at the present moment, she would have taken the time to admire the clueless expression on his face.

"There isn't any other way for me to say this." Liz said in frustration, using hand gestures to stress the point. "Max, I want to start a family. I want to have a baby."

Max gawked at her, his mind racing. Sure, he had entertained the idea of one day having children with Liz ever since they first got together, but he had never really thought about it seriously. He didn't even know what to think. But undeniably, the first thing that popped into his head was _'no'_.

"Now before you say anything, I just thought you should know that I've been thinking about this a lot, and I've decided that it's what I really want." Liz spoke so quickly that she shortly found herself out of breath. "I know there's millions of different things to consider, and – " She stopped herself, realizing that he was loosening his hold on her waist. "Max, what's wrong?"

"I-It's just a lot to take in, that's all." Stammered Max, feeling overwhelmed. "Having a baby…it's a life-changing experience. As much as you think you're ready for it, Liz, you probably never will be. And with our lifestyle…do you really think it's such a good idea?"

Liz knew what he meant by 'lifestyle'. So far, they hadn't lived in the same place for more than a few months. If they had to move again, it would be much more difficult to do so if they had a baby with them. But Liz had somehow convinced herself that things were going to be different now that everyone had settled down so comfortably. She had always wanted to have her own children, and more than anything she wanted Max to be the father, even if he was a half-alien, half-human hybrid.

"And what happens if we do have a baby, and he or she is born with some weird alien power they can't control?" Said Max, finding his voice again. "Or what if the baby turns out to be completely human? It wouldn't be fair for a human baby to have a half-alien for a father."

"He or she would have a human mother." Liz argued feebly, then murmured. "Well, a partly human mother. I don't think it would matter, Max. Our child would love you regardless of what you are, or what _they_ are. We'd find a way to help the baby control their powers. It would be okay."

Max looked deep into her eyes, so full of youth, hope and determination. He knew in his heart that she would be a fantastic mother, and any child would be lucky to have her. Yet there were so many reasons why this could never be. He hated so much to break her heart like this.

"Liz, we can't risk it." He said sorrowfully. "We can't risk endangering the life of anyone else, especially our own child's."

"I want to risk it. I want to have children, Max." She said tearfully, feeling the emotion reel up inside of her.

Seeing her cry because of him always struck something painful in the very core of his heart. He gently caressed her cheek, wiping away her tears with his thumb, then pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Even if there was some way…even if we didn't have anything to worry about…" He whispered into her soft folds of hair. "I still wouldn't be ready for it. Not yet, anyway. Not after what happened with Zan."

Liz always felt a little awkward and uneasy on the rare occasion in which Max's son, Zan, was mentioned. All they knew about the boy now was that he was being raised by a foster family somewhere. Max had given him up just before they left Roswell, hoping that he would be able to lead a normal life. Max still thought about him every so often, Liz knew. She also wondered about him from time to time…how he was doing…what he was like…whether he took after his father in any way…how different things would have been if Max decided to keep him. He must be almost seven years old now…

"Sorry." He said quickly, looking ashamed as Liz pulled away from him. "I know you don't like talking about – "

She placed a finger to his lips, cutting him off. The softness of his lips always surprised her. "I understand, Max. It's a lot for you to have to deal with. I'm sorry that I sprung this on you so suddenly."

"I love you." His voice trembled as he said the words. "If things were different, then…"

Before either of them could say another word, the front door swung open, slamming against the opposite wall with a loud clang. A tanned, muscular young man with a shaggy mane of tawny brown hair burst into the room noisily, grumbling to himself and looking utterly pissed off.

"Hey, Michael." Liz said pleasantly, acting as if Michael had just come into the room normally and offered them a cheery greeting. Both she and Max were used to Michael's mood swings, and knew it was easier to pretend that they didn't happen than to get involved.

Michael grunted, hoisting himself up so that he was sitting, cross-legged on the kitchen counter without bothering to remove his biker boots. "Got any of that cake left over from Maria's birthday?"

Casting Liz a brief, apologetic glance, Max opened the fridge and retrieved the final slice of birthday cake, passing it to his best friend along with a bottle of _Tabasco_ sauce. Michael didn't even offer a word of thanks, but accepted the food gratefully all the same.

"Err…you know Michael, Liz and I were kind of in the middle of something." Max said blatantly, running his hand lightly along Liz's arm at the same time.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. Carry on." Michael barely looked up from the hot sauce he was carefully lathering all over the cake.

"Um…it was sort of private." Liz could feel herself blushing as she said it.

Michael shot her a dark look. "Go into another room, then. You two don't own this whole apartment. I can sit in the kitchen if I want to."

Realizing that it was impossible to argue with Michael at this stage, Max leaned down and whispered into Liz's ear. "Maybe we should talk later."

Liz nodded grudgingly. _Typical Michael, _she thought as she watched her husband's best friend take a great bite into the huge slab of cake, _always picks the wrong moment to walk into a room._

* * *

"Alright." Maria said as she slammed the fridge door shut and whirled around to glare at Michael. "Who ate the last piece of my birthday cake?"

"What are you staring at me for?" Michael questioned ignorantly, pushing past her to get the carton of milk.

"Because I know it was you." Maria snapped, folding her arms defiantly across her chest. "You're the only person who is rude enough to buy someone a huge cake for their birthday, give it to them, then end up eating most of it themselves."

"If you knew it was me then why did you ask in the first place?" Said Michael as he took a long swig from the milk carton. Clearly annoyed, Maria hit him hard on the shoulder.

"You're the rudest, most annoying person I have ever had the displeasure of meeting, Michael Guerin."

"What have I done to offend you now?"

Maria marched past him, opened the cupboard and took out a glass, handing it to him. "God, could you at least _try _to pretend you're a civilized person once and a while? Other people have to drink from that carton, you know? And don't try using the 'alien' excuse on me, boy. Max is an alien too, but he still manages decent manners."

"Well if Max is so great then why don't you just toddle off and find yourself a guy like him?"

"Because, unfortunately for me, I ended up falling in love with you." Maria retorted. "Which means we're pretty much stuck with each other for the rest of our lives."

"Are you guys arguing again?" Kyle laughed to himself as he came through the door, holding several boxes of pizza under his arm. "Gee, I wasn't even gone half an hour."

He stepped forward and placed the boxes on the kitchen counter, where Michael had sat eating the remains of Maria's birthday cake scarcely a few hours before.

"Dinner is served!" He called mock-elaborately. Liz, Max and Isabel switched off the television and joined the others in the kitchen.

Because they didn't have a very high budget, the apartment was still lacking some essential items, including a table. This didn't seem to bother anyone. Isabel and Kyle usually sat on the only two stools in the kitchen, while everyone else made do with leaning against the counter.

"Guess what, everyone?" Isabel said in a would-be happy voice towards the end of the meal. "I've managed to find a second job."

"Doing what, Isabel?" Kyle asked with interest.

"Modeling clothes for some magazine." She replied, looking at the ground sheepishly. "They hired me on the spot. I thought I may as well give it a go, and the job pays really well…"

"That's great, Isabel." Liz beamed, leaning on Max as she spoke. "We really could use the extra money."

"Yeah, I know. That's why I decided to go for it. It's only three days a week, and I can hold down my other job at the same time."

Maria could not deny that she felt a stab of jealousy when she heard this new revelation. She wasn't really the modeling type, but she wished she had something glamorous and exciting to look forward to in her life. She and Isabel shared a job at a clothes store downtown, and had become quite close over the last few years, so she was happy for her friend all the same.

"Well, I'm off for my second job." Michael said a little later, dusting off his hands and pulling on his black leather jacket. "The joys of bartending await."

He gave Maria a quick kiss and then was off, leaving her to sulk for the rest of the night about being left alone. She, Max, Kyle and Isabel sat down to watch a movie on TV, while Liz took some of her study books and sat down at the kitchen counter.

During the movie, Kyle kept looking anxiously at Isabel. Something was bothering her…upsetting her. He could see it in her eyes. Max was the only other person who seemed to have noticed, but oddly enough, he didn't seem that bothered by the fact that his sister was clearly upset. Recently, he felt he had formed a close bond with the girl that he had barely talked to in high school, and was hoping for the chance to get to speak to her alone and see if he could provoke her into telling him what was troubling her.

"I think I'll go for a walk." Isabel said suddenly, getting up from the couch and pulling on her jacket.

"Be careful." Max warned, looking wary. "I don't like the idea of my sister wondering around the city at night on her own."

"I'll go with you." Kyle sprung to his feet, perhaps a little too hastily. "Erm…for protection purposes, of course."

"I know how to handle myself, guys." Isabel said sternly, but gave Kyle a warm smile. "But I could probably use some company."

"Yeah, sure." Kyle stammered, turning his back on them to hide the pink tinge that always crept into his cheeks whenever Isabel smiled at him like that.

Okay, maybe he was hoping that his relationship with Isabel could be more than just friendship, but he knew that it could never happen. Technically, Isabel was still married, and still clinging to the faint hope that she might be reunited with her husband once again. She would forever be loyal to him, no matter what. Even so, there was no reason why Kyle couldn't dream…

They headed out the door and into the cool, late winter night. The snow had only stopped a few weeks ago, and it was still cold, with a violent wind coming in from the eastern area. Kyle watched as Isabel pulled her jacket around her tightly, shivering from the bad weather. He considered offering her his jacket as well, but then thought the better of it. It wasn't long before Isabel started to talk.

"Do you know what day it was today?" She asked him, looking directly ahead of her.

"February 20th?"

Isabel nodded. "Jesse's birthday."

They were both silent, staring up into the polluted city skies. Only the sounds of passing cars and the wailing of distant sirens could he heard around them. Now Kyle knew why Isabel had been feeling low all day – she had been missing her husband.

"I bet that he's thinking of you, no matter what else he might be doing right now."

"You think?" Isabel said doubtfully. "It has been six years…"

"Trust me, Isabel, it's impossible for any guy to forget about a girl like you." He blurted out, then immediately wished he'd kept his mouth shut. It wasn't a good idea to be pressing boundaries like this. He didn't want to risk his friendship with her.

To his surprise, Isabel's eyes began to swell with emotion. "You really think so?"

"You bet." Kyle felt as though his face was on fire. Isabel smiled at him tearfully.

"Thank you, Kyle. Your friendship has meant so much to me over the past few years."

"No, thank you, Isabel…." He murmured quietly, so that she could barely hear him. "…for letting me be part of your life."

* * *

"Max, about what I said before…" Liz began, but trailed away, not knowing where to start.

"Yeah. I wish it didn't have to be this uncomfortable."

This was the first time they had been alone together since their conversation in the kitchen earlier. Everyone had finally decided to go to bed. There was a total of three bedrooms in the apartment. Max shared a room with Liz, the other was Michael and Maria's, and the smallest one belonged to Isabel. Kyle had volunteered to sleep on the couch the first night they arrived in the apartment, but stored his small number of possessions in Isabel's room.

"I know." Liz said as she climbed into bed beside him. "But it still is something we need to talk about."

"I'm really sorry, Liz, but I'm just not ready." He told her remorsefully as she shuffled closer to him, leaning her head against his bare chest. "Plus, everything I said before…"

"I understand." Liz tried to sound normal, but could not keep the sadness and disappointment out of her tone. "I guess we'll just have to learn to except the fact that we can never have a proper family."

"We still have Maria, Michael, Kyle and Isabel. They're like our family." Max stroked her hair fondly, hoping to brighten her mood. "And maybe in the future, we can have children…when it's safe. We don't need to rush into anything. We have plenty of time."

"Plenty of time…" She repeated, feeling herself grow weary.

She nestled in against Max as he pulled the blankets around them tightly, shielding them both from the cold. She felt his strong arms wrap around her as if he were protecting her from all the harsh cruelty of the world. As she lay there, feeling warm, content and secure, she couldn't help wondering, for the thousandth time, if things couldeven bemore perfect than they were now.

* * *

A/N: Um...I don't live in San Fran and have never seen it, so if any descriptions of it in this are wrong, feel free to correct me.

Thanks for reading, please review!


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